


Jupiter's Fourth Satellite

by Magic_Mayhem



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Actual Child Tony Stark, Actual Human Disaster Clint Barton, By the Pot, Coffee, Comic Clint, Domestic Avengers, First time for everything, Fluff, Guess the pairing?, I Love Sam, I'm really bad at choosing a pairing, Mom!Steve, Multi, Mutant, Mutant OFC, Nike - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform, Pick a pairing?, Romance, Tlukotu Srdce Anděla, Yell at me if I don't update, helpful bucky, lengthy, my bad - Freeform, strong female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7483692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magic_Mayhem/pseuds/Magic_Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becoming an Avenger isn't easy, as rescued!Callisto soon finds out. Follow this special OFC through the trials and tribulations it takes to register to save people's lives. It's not easy, but it's worth it. Right? A rescued science experiment is all that she is right? Or did her powers come from somewhere more sinister?<br/>Will probably rewrite summary a few thousand times because summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ground Control to Major Tom (the one where we meet our OFC)

**Author's Note:**

> HEllo yes. We all know you're not going to stick around to read the notes at the end, it's cool.  
> I will do my best to update. If I don't update within a week yell at me/ I'm still going through emotional trauma because I got hooked on a fic that stopped updating in January// Like seriously, It's still my first bookmark and I check it almost daily in blind hope it's been updated/// Surprise! It hasn't. :(/ Any feedback is appreciated. Just please remember I am bread, untoasted, unroasted, completely cinnamon, please be gentle. At the mo I'm leaning away from Bucky/OFC but whatever, I'm really bad at pairings. Personally I'm a Sam girl. 110% Sam. Sam Wilson deserves the world. Anyways, thank you for reading, please don't eat me. XoXo

**Chapter I**      

  **Ground Control to Major Tom**

     “Steve!” Nat yelled, shifting through some of the fallen concrete, “I got one that’s still alive!” She threw a particularly large piece of concrete behind her, exposing a set of brilliant grey eyes.

     “On my way!” Steve replied and a clanking was heard several yards away as Steve sheathed his shield.

     “Here, help me with the big piece.” Natasha took one side, Steve took the other, and together they were able to uncover the unmoving girl beneath the rubble. She blinked a few times in the light and coughed, clearly struggling to breathe. Natasha bent down by her face,

     “Sweetheart, we’re gonna get you out of here. You’re safe, everything’s gonna be okay.” the girl coughed again, and Natasha nodded at Steve to get a stretcher. Just as Steve moved to leave the girl spoke.

     “Prosím,” She coughed again, squinting her eyes, unaware of her reality, “Nechte mě umřít, prosím.” She repeated the last word a few times before her eyes fluttered shut.

     “Steve, stretcher!” Natasha barked, and Steve went running toward the quinjet.

* * *

     The first time she woke all she knew was pain. Her ribs were on fire, she couldn’t move her left arm, her leg had to be broken in several spots with the way it was throbbing, her ears hurt, there was some type of screaming going on. It took her several moments to realize the screaming was hers. This had to be one of his worst experiments, or perhaps he was just torturing her again. She saw a flash of a worried look and dark hair before she could no longer see or feel anything.

* * *

     “Tony, what did you do?” Natasha said, running into the lab with Sam and Bucky on her heels. Tony raised his hands defensively,

     “I didn’t do anything- she woke up. Which shouldn’t be possible, she has enough narcotics and sedatives in her system to knock out a horse for a week, let alone a hundred pound child.” The group crowded around her bedside.

     “She’s not a child, Tony,” Natasha said, much quieter now the screaming had stopped, she bent at the hip,hovering over the girl, “Length of the femur and the angle of the hips indicate she's between twenty and twenty-five.”

     “Could’ve fooled me,” Sam sighed, his face in his hand. “Weighs as much as a fifth grader.” Natasha only nodded. Bucky was being unusually silent, his eyes seemed to take in every inch of her. Tangled blonde hair, bruised cheek, bloodied nose and hands, different bones sticking in weird directions. That’s not what had him so concerned, although that was concern plenty, her skin showed scars so numerous, they criss crossed across her torso, needle marks, puncture marks, rope burns, healed circle shaped burns that only came from cigarettes. This girl had more injuries than the ones sustained during the collapse of the building, she showed the signs of years of abuse, neglect, even torture.

     “How much longer until the cradle gets here?” He asked huskily. Tony checked his watch before replying,

     “Dr.Cho and Dr.Banner should be arriving any moment, Steve’s waiting for them in the hangar.” No sooner had Tony finished his sentence when FRIDAY came over the intercom to announce the touchdown of their helicopter. A tense moment that seemed to stretch an eternity settled between the group before Steve, Dr.Banner, Dr.Cho, and a few unrecognized assistants came crashing through the lab doors rolling in a massive coffin-like bed.

     “All non-medical personnel need to get out. Now.” Dr. Cho commanded the room, and the Avengers scrambled to comply.

* * *

     Twenty minutes later they all sat gathered in the living room, Tony, Steve, Wanda, Vizh, Natasha, Bucky, Piet, Sam, and Clint. Nobody talked for awhile, footage of the massacre in Poland played on the table centre, each of them processing it in their own way. Steve was clearly trying hard to understand, pulling up random data and schematics throughout the playing of the footage.

     “This is what I don’t understand,” His voice was strained as he brought up a picture of their target, Dr. Frederick Vanderkamp. “That castle in Ustak was supposed to be his base, all his experiments, everything, why did he blow it up?” He finished, gesturing the information in front of him like a puzzle made up of pieces from other puzzles.

     “Well,” Wanda stood, taking the table controls from Steve and pulling up the blueprints of the castle. “The blast was targeted around this area,” She tapped the tablet and the east wing of the castle highlighted. “The castle had a domino effect, effectively sealing us off from him, in admittedly close quarters, he bought just enough to escape into the Gulf of Danzig. He could be anywhere in the world by now.” She handed the tablet back to Steve and reclaimed her seat.

     “Okay. That makes sense, sacrifice his work for his life. But what about her?” Sam asked, leaning forward and pushing his elbows into his knees.

     “Her has a name,” Bucky said without looking up from his drink.

     “That’s news, care to share with the team?” Steve sent a rather unpleasant look toward his friend.

     “If I’m not mistaken, Callisto.” He was looking at the team now and held eye contact with Steve when he downed the rest of his drink. “She had a tattoo, more of a brand really, on the left side of her chest. It’s an old dialect, probably dead by now, it’s a mashed up language used mostly by 1960s  Serbian immigrants through Hungary, the border between Austria and Slovakia, all the way to Prague. The language is a melting pot of three different languages- Serbian Cyrillic, Hungarian, and Czech. I could only make out the name Callisto, and you’d be hard pressed to find a living person who speaks or understands that language after the massacre in the nineties by Czechian nationalists.” As he spoke, Bucky poured himself another drink, his words hanging in the air. Natasha finally looked at Steve.

     “Could that be what she was speaking at the Castle?” Natasha was leaning in now too, sitting criss cross applesauce propping herself up on an elbow balanced on her knee.

     “What did she say?” Bucky interrupted Steve’s reply, a hopeful look on his face. Natasha turned her attention toward Bucky, eyeing him suspiciously.

     “She was having trouble breathing, so keep that in mind, but it was something along the lines of ‘Nechte mě umřít, prosím.’ right before she passed out.” Natasha’s eyes grew worried at the dark look on Bucky’s face.

     “Well, man- What did it mean?” Clint asked, staring at him.

     “That’s not a mash of languages, that’s pure Czech.” He replied, his face white.

     “Yes, yes, but Czech for what exactly?” Piet asked, he too was growing impatient.

     “Very loosely translates to ‘let me die’” Bucky replied, losing focus on the blueprints that still occupied the table in front of him. Apprehension settled into the room like smoke, suffocating even the strongest.

     “We need to find out more about Dr.Vanderkamp’s experiments, did we recover anything from the castle?” Wanda asked- turning her attention back to Steve- But Steve didn’t answer. Tony did,

     “Guy was a dinosaur, all paper records, the ones that weren’t burned are all in a language FRIDAY doesn’t understand. Perhaps when the girl-” Tony stopped his pacing, his hand on the back of his neck, staring off into space when Bucky gave him a reproachful look. “Perhaps when Callisto,” Tony reiterated, “feels up to the task she can shed some light on his operation.” Steve nodded as Tony finished,

     “And let’s all hope that’s sooner rather than later, I don’t want his trail to go cold. For now, everyone go shower, grab a few hours of sleep and a snack.” Steve’s eyes seemed to scan everyone in the room, and slowly but surely everyone unfolded themselves from various couches, loveseats, bean bags, and in Pietro’s case, a Palestinian rug, and headed off to their respected living quarters.

* * *

     She had decided she had three planes of existence for her current situation. Black was unconsciousness, floating peacefully, the closest thing to a deep sleep she was ever going to get. Black was okay, she didn’t mind black. White hurt, and so did red. White was blinding pain, it plagued her all over, it made her shriek until she thought her vocal chords had been ripped out of her. Red was just as bad, all the pain, but trapped in her body by a twinge of black. She could see dancing lights and the shadow of her eyelashes on her cheek, and she could feel every inch of pain across her body. She tried sluggishly to be as responsive as possible when she could, sometimes when her pain was obvious he would knock her out, which seemed to be the case today as every successful movement brought another rush of drugs into her system. They wouldn’t last long, they never did. Nothing they ever did to her was enough. She could never get hurt enough to die, she could never eat enough- satisfying her appetite for only short periods, and medicine. It always seemed to burn out of her system quicker and quicker. One of the rare experiment results he had shared with her, one day medicine wouldn’t do anything to her. She supposed it was both a blessing and a curse, it meant that one day his experiments would have no effect on her. The pain was becoming more tolerable now, she could feel the last of her internal injuries closing up, the doctor would be proud- she had healed in record time.

* * *

     Hours later, inside medical bay, Dr.Cho anxiously checked the girl’s vitals, over and over again. She could not comprehend the information, according to the data, she should be dead. After sharing a knowing look with Banner, she peeked into the cradle. Against all odds, five hours into the machine and the girl was looking almost whole again. The only outward sign of damage was a gash on her forehead that was rapidly closing. But just as she began to have hope, the heart monitor started going crazy, causing Dr.Cho to run over to it, possibly more anxious than before.

     “Someone grab the paddles, she’s going into cardiac arrest!” Dr.Cho ran over to the cradle, where Bruce helped her open the lid. An assistant had already rushed over, the paddles already prepped at two hundred volts.

     “Everyone clear!” Dr.Cho yelled, and Bruce immediately took a few steps back.

* * *

       _Funny_. She thought, the doctor had never worked with Americans before. Just as she felt her spleen realign, she opened her eyes to quite a horrific sight.

Just as the paddles came down on the girl, her eyes flashed open and her hands came up to catch the wrists that were intent on causing her so much pain.

     “Please.” She spoke, and although her voice was quiet, it carried throughout the room, “I do not wish to do that again.” And with a wave of her hand, the paddles, and the woman attached to them, were pushed back several feet. The girl sat up and eyed the scene around her. This was not the doctor's lab, and the doctor was not here. That wasn’t possible, the doctor always presided over every experiment, even those conducted by his HYDRA financiers. All around her, the people in the room stared, chills ran down her body, _Who were all these people?_. Quick as a flash, she brought her feet up underneath her and came into a guarded crouch. The lady next to her, the one who had quite rightly put her paddles away, looked to a man across from her. The man nodded. He was tall, greying hair and circular glasses. He looked quite curious to her.

     “FRIDAY, Clint’s better at these type of things than any of us.” The man seemed to speak to no one in particular. Just when she thought nothing could get stranger a disembodied female voice replied to the man,

     “They’re on their way, Dr.Banner.”

     Something was wrong. More wrong than usual, which is saying something. Her eyes fleeted quickly around the room, eyeing the size of the windows to her left, and the one door the room had. As soon as she decided the window looked inviting, the door opened and a group of people emerged. An average sized man, clad all in black, led them.

     Clint walked in, slowly as to not startle her. He moved directly in front of her as the rest of the Avengers slid in, sticking to the perimeter. They sized each other up.

     “My name is Clint,” He reached up to rub the back of his neck, “You uh- , you speak English?” She gave him a very mocking eyebrow but otherwise remained unmoving,

     “I speak every language.” She answered as if it was the most obvious thing, her voice as quiet and commanding as before. He nodded, looking down.

     “You don’t have to do that, you know.” He said, motioning to her guarded position, “Nobody here wants to hurt you.” His words brought a laugh to her lips, a peal of bells.

     “I don’t know what you’ve done with the doctor, but trading him for hydra doesn’t make me feel any safer.” If anything she was crouching more defensively than ever. Clint held up both hands in submission.

     “No more Hydra, we finished them. Unfortunately, Dr.Vanderkamp escaped at the castle where we found you. But I can assure you, you will never have to go through anything like that ever again.” She relaxed a fraction of an inch at his words, but she still did not trust him. “Tell you what, what’s your name, kid?” Again she hesitated, although not as long this time.

     “Callisto.” She wasn’t as quiet this time, and Bucky smirked at Steve behind Clint’s back. Clint paid no mind to those in the room around him, instead, he focused his energy on the scared girl in front of him,

     “Tell you what, Callisto.” He stepped right up to the bottom of the cradle, and held out his hand, ‘Let me show you around, I have a feeling you’re going to like it here.” She searched his eyes for any sort of ploy or trick, but his smile was genuine and he held his hand steady, so with an untrusting look and a shaking hand, she accepted his offer and he helped her step down. She was taller than they originally thought, just an inch or two shorter than clint, her hair was dirty but clearly blonde, and her strong bone structure did not match the hole in which they found her. Clint walked through and introduced her to all the Avengers, each of them doing their best to seem friendly. Bucky earned a flash of a smile when it was his turn, introducing himself in Czech even though Steve looked ready to slug him. Although she remained guarded, to the team she seemed less likely to run than before.


	2. That If You Talk Enough Sense, Then You’ll Lose Your Mind (the one with potato soup)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll were supposed to yell at me if I forgot to post.  
> I try ya know.  
> Also somebody pls recommend better music. I am dieing.

**Chapter II**

**That** **If You Talk Enough Sense, Then You’ll Lose Your Mind**

     “And just through here-” Clint held open a door just off the living room open for Callisto to slip through, “This is your room. Although, after you’re deemed safe and Dr.Vanderkamp is caught you are free to leave, I do hope you like it here and consider staying.” Callisto looked around the room, it was dark grey, a single bright light emanating from the ceiling, a large bed pressed up against the wall to her right, and another door to the left. Clint continued to talk, walking around the large empty space behind her, “I’ll talk to Tony about getting furniture in here, anyway, the bathroom’s just through there if you want to clean up, Tasha’s out finding you something to wear as I speak.” He was scratching his head again, looking around anxiously.

     “Why?” Callisto turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. Clint only smiled,

     “You see what you were wearing in the blast-” He faded, motioning to her rather dingy and torn t-shirt and jeans.

     “Why do you want me to stay?” She reiterated, a small smile now playing on her lips too.

     “Well ah-” He took a step toward the door sheepishly, “You see Dr.Banner may have mentioned certain… abilities, and well-”

     “Do not patronize me.” She was quieter now, looking toward the door to the bathroom.

     “I think they could be of use here, I really do. And I think you’ll like what we do here.” Another smile, “I’ll send Tasha in when she gets back!” And with a final wave, Callisto was left to herself. She paced around the room. It was a good size, made to seem larger by the emptiness of it. The wall across from the door to the living room was panelled, which seemed strange, something to figure out later. After another once over of the room, she padded over to the bathroom. Feeling along the wall next to the door frame, she flipped a switch which illuminated the bathroom. It wasn’t much, a small sink in a counter with a mirror, a toilet in the left corner, a claw foot tub running along one side, and a standup shower tucked in the right corner. Callisto decided on the tub, she didn’t trust herself with the ability to operate the shower. The idea of warm water and clean hair called to her, drawing the bath she then rummaged underneath the sink, coming up with soap and a towel.

* * *

 

     “I apologize, Agent Romanoff, but she seems to be ignoring me.” FRIDAY told Natasha, standing laden with various shopping bags outside of Callisto’s door.

     “That’s alright, Friday, could you get the door? It’s okay if you blame me.”Natasha asked, smiling. The door in front of her clicked and fell in. Taking a few hesitant steps inside, Natasha found Callisto sitting wrapped in a towel, with her long hair in tangles, sitting on the edge of the bed.

     “Heya, I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got a bit of everything,” Natasha smiled brightly, spreading her various shopping bags on the floor. She looked around and frowned. “I’ve got to talk to Tony about getting you a dresser.” She pursed her lips and began digging through bags. She separated them into a few separate piles before rising, “Alright, these-” She pointed to a bundle of bags, “Are all necessities- hairbrush, toothbrush, lady products, razors, stuff like that-, and that pile,” She pointed to the more pristine bags, “Are all clothes, I’m thinking maybe we can go tomorrow and maybe pick up some more stuff that’s more your style, I know Wanda would love to do some shopping. But only if you’re up to it!” Natasha smiled, a red curl falling into her face.

     “I uh- yea! That sounds great.” Callisto tried her best to return Natasha’s smile, she was secretly still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

     “Great!” Natasha clapped her hands together, heading for the door, “Oh and when you’re dressed, come out to the kitchen, you must be starving!” With another bright smile, Natasha left the room. Callisto finally looked up and to the bags Natasha had left on her floor. She let out a small sigh and got off the bed. She went through the necessities first, and found the hairbrush, She hadn’t used a hairbrush in ages, it took her a quarter of an hour just to brush through the years of pent up tangles. After that it was quite easy to select clothes, she picked out a long sleeve black sweater with a tank top underneath, a pair of long, grey sweatpants that bunched up around her ankles, and short grey socks. She found nail clippers too, and quickly pared off her overgrown nails, she wanted to believe it was real, that she was free- maybe, just maybe. She decided to make sure she didn’t look too scraggly and returned to the bathroom. After turning the light on, she did a once over in the mirror. She had grown, at least another two inches in height, and milestones more in face. The image unsettled her so she left, shutting the bathroom door, and then the bedroom door, behind her. When she first passed through the living room, she thought it was empty. She was a few more steps in when she realized Clint was sitting on the couch, looking through some sort of catalogue or magazine. His hair was also wet, he must have just cleaned up too.

     “Clint? Where is the kitchen?” She asked, her voice a little louder than earlier but spoken with the same level of clarity. Clint ignored her. She took a few steps toward him before he finally looked up, his hand immediately going toward his ear and a frown forming on his face.

     “Sorry, I forgot to put my hearing aids back in after I showered, did you say something?” He had an apologetic look on his face, but Callisto smiled in understanding. She asked him again, this time using her hands instead of her mouth, she made the signs for _Where_ and _Food_ , causing Clint’s eyes to light up.

     “The kitchen is just through there-” He pointed to an archway across the room Callisto had not seen earlier, “And around the corner. Most of the resident team members are in there having lunch, they’ll fix you up something.” The two exchanged smiles once more before Callisto turned and plodded along to the kitchen.

     “Oh come on, Steve, never?” Natasha asked with both eyebrows and spoon raised precociously.

     “It never came up!” Steve replied, raising his hands as a blush crept up his cheeks. Natasha only laughed, her curls bouncing wildly. Callisto leaned against the door frame, a small smile playing on her face watching the scene within. Nestled along a breakfast bar, everyone was talking and laughing. Wanda and Vision were deep in conversation giggling about something he said, Sam and Bucky were playing footsies, Pietro had his face so close to his bowl he was sure to be inhaling it, and the good doctor Banner had a pasty half in his mouth and his face half in a book.

     “You’re welcome to join us.” Steve nodded toward the food on the counter and padded the seat next to him encouragingly. Callisto took a step toward the counter cautiously; if they had wanted to hurt her, why hadn’t they just done it? When no monsters or creatures of her nightmares jumped out at her, she continued hesitantly. The food smelled great, potato soup and apple strudel, it reminded her of her mother.

     Aided by Natasha and Steve who both nodded encouragingly, she doled out hefty helpings of both the dishes in front of her and quickly made her way to her seat. She was sure she heard Natasha snort when she smelled her soup before taking a bite. While she ate Steve entertained the three of them, telling Natasha jokes from the forties. Natasha was a good audience, for the most part, pretending to laugh at Steve’s increasingly sophomoric jokes. Just as she took the last few sips of her soup, the conversation turned to her.

     “So Callisto,” Steve’s attention was aimed directly at her now causing her eyes to go wide in surprise, “We were wondering, you see a lot of paperwork was recovered from the castle in Poland, but none of our systems can recognize the language, and well-”

     “You want me to translate it.” Callisto interrupted; a deadpan to her voice. She swore she heard Natasha kick him under the table.

“No, no, you’re right that’s a stupid idea.” Steve quickly turned his attention back to his bowl, dragging his spoon across the empty surface.

     “I’ll do it.” Callisto returned to her food, wiping up the last traces of soup with her pastry before popping it into her mouth.

“Really?” Tony piped up from farther down the table.

     “On one condition.” Callisto replied in a slightly muffled voice, pastry still in her mouth.

“And what’s that?” Natasha asked, cocking an eyebrow.

     “I want another bowl of soup.”

 


End file.
